Detective Ignacius Montgomery had been an officer on the force for ten years. His reputation for solving crimes and apprehending his suspect superseded his fellow counterparts. He never rested until someone was caught for any major crime, and convicted for it at most. Tonight he felt the end of his time as an officer and detective, creep up his arm and settle in his stomach, as he watched the new crime scene unfold. Everything about the crime scene spoke to his subconscious yet he pressed forward, ignoring the hair standing on his neck and the stench burning into his nostrils and brains. He felt the water stinging his eyelids and blinked a few times in succession so it could be warded off. Yes, Detective Montgomery should have walked away from this particular scene and handed it to another associate but he didn’t. He walked around the room, fingering the different items with latex covered hands. Watching, making mental and physical notes. Adjusting to the stink and the lighting. Feeling for ‘something’ in the unknown. When he laid down next to the victim, those around should have been alerted by his unusual behaviour, but they were not attuned to his actions. He knew that should not have happened but he did it anyway. He laid down right next to the body and moved only when the coroner came. Only then did he relinquish his side of the bed with blatant reluctance. He knew his time was close to leaving the force upon that first sign of weakness and decided then to give in his resignation letter. Next question would be ‘how soon?’ How soon should he walk into the office of his superior and relinquish his rights to ‘fight crime’. He would be bombarded with questions, and they would try to manipulate him into staying, but he wouldn’t. He won’t succumb to the words given. Those illustrious words that would make another man’s head swell with pride. No, his head would be sunk deep in the sand while eating his daily dose of humble pie. Detective Montgomery wasn’t the same after he saw the crime scene.
What alerted those around him was his reaction to the name of the victim. His counterparts turned in silence, each stealing a glance his way when they heard the audible breath intake. Ms. Valerie Von Shlooemen lay down so peacefully in her deathly raiment that you had to take a few minutes for the vision to sink in. She was beautiful and alluring to look at, even as her skin paled in comparison. Her soft features still held your gaze even if it were lifeless hollow eyes mirroring your own. She still grasped your attention while slumped in her deathly stare.
Montgomery’s breathing normalized instantly, but for that sharp intake which also had an adverse effect on his posture.
Montgomery reluctantly removed his eyes from the body being wheeled out and followed the other officers back to the crime scene. Watching every picture being taken, every glass being handle with care and precision (not to get them tainted). Every person in his purview was given the same look as they worked feverishly to collect clues and items surrounding the death.
Montgomery did what any officer would have done and wrote in his journal. Noting his time of arrival and all other personal information. He then gave the signal to wrap things up in the apartment and made his way to the station so he can write his report. Know one noticed the shift in his shoulders or the sluggishness in his walk as he continued his normal routine, but he knew. He knew that this was the end of a career and he accepted it just as he had to accept the death of Ms. Shclooemen.